Neled Muinthil: Three Sisters
by Ilirenelluithauren
Summary: Three women in Second Age Middle Earth. They want to get active in the war, but will they be able to, being, as they are, women? And will they get the chance at all when they are kidnapped in the High Pass? I'm not sure yet. Tell you when I find out.
1. Silence

Disclaimer: We own nothing, etc. etc.

Author's note: This is another story by Poppet and FallenCherub, but we're also introducing a new author: BohemianDuck! Whoo! Anyway, hopefully this'll go farther than our last story...It's definitely better. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW!

Silence. That's what Lassiwen loved about traveling. The silence. Just the birds in the trees and the wind in the grass. No horses or chatter or bossy Wardens shouting all the time.

"Ow! Shit!" came the pained voice of one of Lassiwen's companions.

"Lovely, silent Amon Hen," muttered Lassiwen to herself as her friend and traveling companion Ariella hobbled into view.

"Quiet, Ella," Cirdae said. "Lassi was _enjoying the silence_." She put emphasis on these last three words, indicating that this was an often recurring theme.

"Damn those hawthorns!" cried Ella, sitting down on a nearby raised tree root and removing her boot. A trickle of blood showed through her stocking, and she gasped thinly as she extracted the needle-like thorn from her foot. A few more choice words escaped her. "Fuckshitbuggerwankass!"

Lassi shook her head and carelessly, pulled out a small bottle. "Give me your foot," she said in a business-like manner.

"Once a healer, always a healer," grumbled Ella.

"_Former_ healer. The flipping Warden tossed me out," Lassiwen said cheerfully, dabbing at the wound.

"Well, you did sleep with her husband."

"He slept with me first."

"Shut up and fix my foot."

"Hold still and I will." She finished up, topping it off with a scrap of bandage.

"Will the two of you quit bickering and listen?" said Cirdae, climbing a tall, leafless tree nearby and looking to the river. "Do you see what I see?"

"Well, as you're up there, and we're down here," observed Ella, "no."

Cirdae glared. "Something is glinting through the trees off to the south, there."

"Glinting?"

"Yes. Glinting. You heard me. Glinting."

"Oh, bugger off bitch. Just tell me what you see."

"Well, I can't really tell, but I'm assuming it's armour."

Ella started to speak again, but Lassi had already begun to make her way through the forest. Ella took off after her as Cirdae slid down the tree.

Cirdae beat them both, however, to the lights in the forest, being the fastest and quietest. All three women slowed as they were close enough to hear the men. But what they heard was not a few hunters tracking a steed. They heard marching feet.

Confused, the girls looked at each other. Lassi pulled back a branch. She turned back immediately and pointed animatedly, indicating that they should turn back. Cirdae and Ella scrambled quickly down the hill they had climbed, frightened by the look of fear on Lassi's face.

"Mordor Orcs!" she whispered loudly. "Foul and twisted mockery of the Elves that were captured and corrupted—"

"We know what they are, Lassi," Ella whispered back, "but why are they here?"

The three looked at each other. "Gil-galad and Elrond have been gathering their men. Is it possible that the battle is about to happen—"

"And Sauron knows of it..." Cirdae said, "...and is calling back his own forces?"

"They must be here because of Sauron's will or they would not be out in the sunlight," Lassi reasoned.

Ella crept back up the hill, wanting a look of her own. Glancing through the brush, Ella knew that there were creatures preparing for war. The fact that Orcs were "marching" in some form of order was proof enough. These Orcs carried long, curved swords; some had axes. Then a small group of Orcs carrying primitive and twisted weapons passed.

Ella shuddered. A flag carrier was approaching. The banner he was carrying had a large, red spider-like creature on it, the flag of the tower of Cirith Ungol.

"Cirdae and Lassi joined her shortly afterward, having seen the flag from down below. This was a small "regiment," and soon the seemingly never-ending line of Orcs was coming to an end, but as the last few approached Ella smiled, then Lassi, then Cirdae. They crept out into the armour-less backs of the thousands of Orcs.

The three girls silently slid through the ranks, slitting throats and stabbing backs, until they reached the flag-bearer. They left him to be surprised that he was leading a non-existent regiment.

The girls slipped back into the forest and silently made their way back toward their starting point.

"So...what now?" Ella asked.

"Rivendell. We go join my lord Elrond," Lassi said.

"You do realize," observed Ella, "that we're on the wrong side of the mountains, right?"

"And that the mountains we'll have to march across are infested with," Cirdae paused to tic items off on her fingers, "wolves, Orcs, maybe even dragons?"

"Not to mention that the nine are abroad," finished Ella.

"Come on you two!" said Lassi. "We could be heroes!"

"Yeah, dead heroes."


	2. The High Pass

"Just take the High Pass, you said. It'll be cake, you said. Nothing bad can come of it, you said!" ranted Cirdae, attempting to loose her bonds and muttering under her breath.

Despite the fact that the High Pass through the mountains was supposedly safe board at the next morning had found the girls bound at the wrists and ankles. Sometime while sleeping they had been captured, tied up, and brought to a small square tent. Around them, outside the tent, they could make out shapes and movement that resembled a large tracking party.

"Ok, so things didn't work out quite as I planned," countered Lassi, struggling to undo her own bonds. Things could be far worse."

Ella, who had lain quietly thinking, agreed. "Yes, we've been captured, but not done any undue harm. Amazing considering there's a large number of lonely men out there." (BohemianDuck: Sorry, I couldn't resist.)

"Whatever happens, we probably don't have anything to worry about until tonight. There are rules of honor, even concerning rape. Any defilement happens in darkness, away from the eyes of the gods," said Cirdae knowledgably. "But our main concern should be escape before anything worse happens."

"No," said Ella calmly, "we're obviously dealing with a band of trackers. If we escape they'll no doubt find us and enforce even stricter rules, and a fate worse than death."

Lassi chimed in, apparently determined to get them out of such a mess. "I know we've all taken the oath to do no harm, but that oath also authorized the saving of one's own hide. It would be in our best interests to wait until tonight when we're split up and sent to men's tents unguarded."

Immediately Cirdae understood. "You're right. The second a man drops his pants, he drops his guard, and that's when it's safe to cut his throat. I trust you both still have your daggers?" It was a little-known fact that everyone in Middle-earth carried a weapon on their person at all times—to do otherwise meant almost certain death. A dagger was the most popular choice due to its instant accessibility and often deadly accuracy. A man with a good arm could drop an Orc at 16 yards if he knew how to handle his weapon.

"Of course," they chorused, pushing aside their robes to reveal the intricately tooled sheathes, pushing them out of sight again when the tent flap opened and in stepped a man they'd never seen before.

(BohemianDuck: Yeah, this is a shameless set up for a rape scene. So what?)

The man was tall and broad, barrel-chested, and his beard was full across his face. He stood just within the tent, dressed in a deep blue tunic, heavily armed, holding a wooden tray, stacked with unleavened bread and various berries.

"Food," he said, setting down the tray and walking out. A stunned silence, and then immediate shuffling to get to the food (no easy task when bound).

And so the day passed, with various people bringing various foods at various times (BohemianDuck: Fuck it all to hell in a fast car! Get to the bloody rape scene, ya bastard!) Soon night was falling like a dark veil, and encroaching footsteps...encroached.

During the day the girls had lain and listened to the hushed conversations of the men, finding them to be renegades, marauders, and rogues. Living outside the law, it was up to them to serve the justice that kings could or would not. (BohemianDuck: Yeah, they stole from the rich, gave to the poor, and wore green tights. Got a problem with that?) Apparently, they had set up camp here as they too were crossing the High Pass, but going the other direction, towards the East.

In stepped the barrel-chested man from before. "It's time." Apparently he preferred monosyllabic words. (Poppet: Sorry. I can't shut her up. BohemianDuck: Hey, why does 'monosyllable' have five syllables?) Pulling his dagger from its sheath, the man the girls had simply dubbed "Man" cut the bonds on Cirdae's ankles and pulled her up by the wrists, pushing her through the door flap. One by one, they were all led away.


	3. You think it'll be a rape scene but it w...

Authors Note: Sorry it's been so bloody long. Although apparently no one is actually reading this at all because no one has reviewed! Grr. Anyway there is sex in this scene, but it's well written so...shrug This scene made me laugh, cry, and orgasm. Enjoy.

The Moon perched atop the highest mountain, bright as a new lantern, projecting nightmares and black horses that galloped as though in a dream.

It was too bright to merit rescue.

Inside a small square tent lay Cirdae, bound with rope think as her finger but strong as a spider's silk. Her hands were tied in front of her, and she would have attempted to untie them in a moment had she seen a chance for escape. Alas, none had come, and she knew if they found her unbound, it would turn her into a prisoner instead of a captive. No one had come into the tent since the men that brought her here, and now, after a half-days worth of quiet thought, she decided to go stark raving mad, to save trouble. Luckily, she was merely on the verge of insanity when in walked a young man, the apparent owner of the tent, dripping wet and not a little naked.

Sensing her immediately, he turned and watched her, staring intently at her in the glimmer half-light of the moon that filtered into the tent. His gaze was subtle, permeating, like being slowly yet inexorably engulfed in water.

She shuddered. What now? There had been so many near-death experiences in her life she had lost track, but now, eyeing the dagger on the table to his right, she saw that death might truly be moments away.

Still dripping, he picked up the dagger and walked straight to her. Was this the time? She closed her eyes, willing death away. But she did not expect him to cut her bonds, or kiss her neck, or take her to his cot. This night would be one of surprises.

Laying there at his side, naked and shining in the still metallic moonlight, she heard a bird singing somewhere. He lay sleeping beside her, his breathing quiet and even. Was this rape? He had taken advantage, but she was almost as guilty for not stopping him.

Before, when he had laid her on the cot and kissed her, she had spied the dagger he had lain down, and thoughts of escaping had passed through her mind. But then he ran his hand up her thigh, touching her as though he loved her, and she was gone, taken by the wind and tide so wantonly she shamed herself. He had been so quiet and so gentle. The way he made love was dark and filled with sorrow, as though he had once loved and had been loved, and he poured his sorrow into her hair.

She looked at him again, dark, lean, and muscled, as young as she was but with so much more despair, like a man always walking through the ashes of his house.

Something in her was different now, as a flower cut and floated across a pond. Sleeping uneasily, she dreamt of trying to kill herself, but as she reached for the knife she turned into a bird and flew away.

Ella found herself in a similar situation, naked and bound in an empty tent. Similar thought were running through her head: It was too bright for rescue. _But who would rescue us anyway?_ she thought, fully comprehending the utter hopelessness of their situation. No one knew where they were. They had few allies, anyway. It had been only three years ago that the girls had met, outcasts from their respective societies. Lassi had been kicked out of the Houses of Healing after sleeping with the renowned _female_ Warden's husband, the first female Warden in Gondor. The shame had driven her from the city she loved. Ella assumed there was more to this story, but it was never said. She herself had worked as a guard in Minas Ithil after being banished from her home in Lindon. She stayed there until her true sex was learned and she was also forced to flee. There was more to this story as well, but it too was never spoken of. Cirdae had yet to tell her story, either because it simply didn't match up to her companions', or because it far outreached theirs. But the unspoken rule in the girls' relationship was that you didn't ask about another's past, and this rule was never broken.

Anything from the time the girls had met, on, however, was fair go, an—

The ten flap snapped open, interrupting her thoughts. In came a tall man, also dripping wet, and also naked. He was clearly expecting her to be there, but he wasn't expecting _her_.

"Nailer Lebbian?!" she cried, thrilled to see someone she knew.

His eyes were wide and he spoke in disbelief. "Ariella Feanor." His face cracked into the grin men get when they think they're clever for finding a naked woman. Then he remembered himself. He looked away and grabbed a coat that was hanging on the back of a chair. Cutting her bonds he said, "No one wants to see that, girl."

She could have said the same about him, but she didn't. They didn't exactly have a positive relationship, and although she had been happy to see him at first, she soon realized that this could actually be a problem instead of a help.

Ella pulled on the coat and stood up. The coat was somewhat open in the front and only fully covered down to her mid-thighs. She looked at the ground.

"So, why're you...here?" he asked.

"We're headed for Rivendell to join Elrond's army. The War is about to start. I know it. We saw Orcs marching toward Mordor in Amon Hen. Sauron's forces are regrouping. But then we got captured. And—we need..." she stumbled at the words, fearful of the answer, "...your help."

She looked up to see the goofy smile back on his face.

"What?" she asked.

"I'd heard you were a woman, but..."

She shifted uncomfortably. "Could you put some pants on?"

Lassi had no delusions about what was to happen to her. She knew the ultimate importance of remaining calm, but one all-consuming thought permeated all of her being.

Algar.

She could joke all she wanted about the Warden's husband, but they had pledged their love. Could she so betray him? _It isn't betrayal if it isn't my choice, is it?_ thought Lassi...but she had no time for other thoughts.

A sex god had entered the tent, and here she was, naked as the day she was born, and tied to what she assumed was _his_ bed.

_Oh, this can't end well_, Lassi thought.

The Sex God was not as tall as some, but what he lacked in height he made up for in tanned glory. He was muscular like a Tiger, sleek and confidant. There was a towel wrapped around his waist, but aside from that, he wore only copious amounts of eccentric jewelry. Assorted rings adorned his fingers, and a claw earring dangled from his ear. His hands were long fingered, delicate, and tattooed. Finally, Lassi looked up at his face. A quirky sensitive mouth grinned lopsidedly at her. And then Lassi gazed into his eyes. It was at that moment that all was lost, she reflected later.

That moment when he shifted his head slightly to observe his prize. Blue eyes. Deep, deep blue eyes. Their depths welcomed her, asked her to come out and play. Enchanting.

Algar had grey eyes...a part of her mind thought.

No! Algar!

But it was too late...

_Was that betrayal?_ She had no choice, it was rape. _Did one enjoy rape?_ Lassi admitted guiltily. She rather thought not.

The man was asleep now. She gazed at him, musing. Sleep usually made people seem younger. The man (his name was Zef) looked older, sad somehow. He looked like he was in pain.

_Good_, screamed a part of her. _He deserves it, damned rapist!_

_You weren't complaining earlier_, another part replied quietly.

She reached out to wake him. He turned, moaning in his sleep. One hand came out to rest on the pillow beside her. Fascinated, she examined it. Rings adorned his thumb, fore finger, and ring finger. He wore a bracelet made of a ragged scarf wrapped around his wrist several times.

But this was not what captured her eye. She delicately lifted the hand off the pillow. Tattooed on the back of his hand was a stylized version of the Tree of Gondor. Beneath it, woven among the roots of the tree was the Elvish word "Melyanna." Across the tattoo was the legend "Return to me, Mírluin."

Who was Mírluin? A woman? His wife perhaps? Suddenly something swelled in her chest. Jealousy.

Oh, it was all too confusing. Algar, betrayal, captivity, rape, jealousy, and someone named Mírluin...

Cirdae and Lassi were returned to the tent in the morning, where they were left unbound, but heavily guarded. In the tent were their clothes, but no Ella. Later in the morning Ella too returned, accompanied by a man about six feet tall, his hair cut short so that it was difficult to discern its color. A small hoop was in his left ear lobe and the muscles in his arms were slightly visible through his shirt. The thing that most surprised the girls though was that after showing Ella into the tent he didn't leave, but promptly looked away while she changed.

"What?" Lassi asked, realizing that Ella had been talking since she entered the tent. Ella sighed when she saw Cirdae pull her eyes away from the man as well.

"I _said_, this is Nailer. I know him from my time as a guard—"

"Haha!" he laughed. "That's a nice way of saying she arrested me."

"He's going to help us get out of here, give us horses. Turn around," she said to him, now fully dressed.

"How?" Cirdae asked.

"And why can't he just ask the leader to let us go? What would he care if we stayed or not?" Lassi added.

Nailer spoke, completely serious. "Sit down. There are things you need to know."


End file.
